Gypsy
Smith (1860-1947)

His
Life and Work

By Himself

I was instructed to go to Hanley,
and reached the town on the 31st of December, 1881, accompanied by my wife and
one child. The baby was just a year old. It was a Saturday when I arrived. The
General had said to me some days before, "Where do you want to go to next?"
I answered, "Send me to the nearest place to the bottomless pit."
When I got to Stoke station, and began to make my way on the loop-line to Hanley,
the pit fires came in sight, and I could smell the sulphur of the iron foundries,
and see the smoke from the potteries; I began to wonder if I had not got to
the actual place whither I had asked to be sent. At Hanley station we engaged
a cab, got our trunks on it, and went off in search of lodgings. For two hours
we drove over the town, knocking at many doors. But when we said that we were
a contingent of the Salvation Army, the portals were shut against us. At last
a poor old Welsh lady took compassion on us and took us in.

I went at once to see the battlefield, namely, the building in which the services
were to be held. Three young men had been sent to the town to commence operations
two or three weeks before our arrival, but they had utterly failed to make any
impression on the people. The meetings were held in the old Batty Circus, a
cold, draughty, tumble-down sort of place, the most uncomfortable meeting-house
in which I had ever worked. The ring of the circus had been left just as it
was when the circus people cleared out, and any one who ventured therein was
soon up to the knees in sawdust and dirt. There were no seats in this portion
of the circus. On this Saturday evening I found two young lieutenants standing
inside the ring, making it a sort of pulpit. Sprinkled over the seats of the
building, rising tier upon tier were from twenty to thirty people, looking for
all the world like jam-pots on a shelf, and singing as I entered, "I need
Thee, oh, I need Thee." Believe me, I stood and laughed. I thought it was
true enough that they needed somebody. After a brief talk with the people I
asked them to meet me in the Market Place at ten o'clock next morning.

The two young lieutenants, my wife and myself, Tilly took our stand in the Market
Place on Sunday morning. Not a soul came out to support us. I played a little
concertina which had been given to me on leaving Devonport by my friends there,
many of whom were converts. We sang some hymns, and people living above the
shops in the Market Place, thinking we were labourers out of work, threw us
pennies. I had no uniform on, in fact, got out of wearing the uniform when I
could, and, indeed, never in my life did I wear a red jersey. I used to dress
somewhat, although not markedly, in gipsy fashion. Nobody stopped to listen
to us. it was rather wet, and the people who passed by on their way to church
put their umbrellas in front of their faces so that we should not see them.
But we went on as though we had been addressing a crowd. In the afternoon, the
four of us were in the open-air again. At night, about eighty people attended
our services in the circus. The building seated 2,500 people, but these eighty
people huddling themselves close together, to keep warm I suppose (for the building
was very cold), sat in the midst of the most appalling and depressing desolation.
It was a very dismal beginning, without hope, without cheer, without anything
that gave promise of success.

But I was resolved to do what I could in this difficult situation. On Monday
morning we went to the building to see if we could do something to stop the
draughts and get the windows mended. We found a hammer, some nails, and some
pieces of timber in the empty stable of the circus, and we worked with these
instruments all day, doing our best to make the place habitable. My wife assisted
by holding a candle when we had to creep into dark corners in the course of
our labours. I sometimes nowadays marvel at the great mechanical skill which
we discovered among ourselves. It is wonderful what a man can do, even a man
who knows himself to be unskillful, when he is put to it. For two weeks we went
on hammering and plastering, and then I secured the help of my brother-in-law,
Mr. Evens, a joiner by trade. He spent a few days with us, and in that time
we made some seats for the ring. We got hold of some old chairs, knocked the
backs off and planked them together.

In the meantime we continued our services in the Market Place and our audience
grew quickly to large proportions. The people listened attentively, and joined
heartily in the singing. But we had never more than a hundred people in the
circus. After a month's hard labour I asked the General for help - something
in the way of a special attraction. I felt we were not making progress quickly
enough. The first month's collections just managed to pay the gas bill. There
was no money for the poor evangelists, and no money for the rent. We did not
apply for pecuniary assistance, because every station was supposed to be self-supporting,
and we had made up our minds that Hanley would pay its way too. The General
gave us the services of the "Fry family", a father and three sons,
splendid musicians, for a few days. They could sing beautifully and play almost
any instrument. It occurred to me that if I could get somebody of local reputation
to preside at their first meeting we should have a good congregation. I was
advised to call on the Mayor of Burslem, who that year was Alderman Boulton,
and ask him to preside. It so happened that the Rev. John Gould, who was then
Wesleyan minister at Hull, had just been with the Mayor, and had told him about
my work in that great city. On the strength of Mr. Gould's report, Alderman
Boulton promised to preside at the first of the Fry meetings.

I at once got out a huge poster, announcing that a great public meeting in connection
with the Salvation Army was to be held in the Batty Circus, that the Mayor of
Burslem would preside, that various speakers would address the gathering, and
that the singing would be led by the Fry family. The Alderman was kind enough
to invite a good many of his friends, substantial business men, to accompany
him to the meeting, so that the platform was filled, and there was a crowded
attendance. The Alderman plainly discerned what had been our purpose in organising
this meeting, and his speech was indeed a master-stroke. He told the people
tersely, though fully, all about my work at Hull, and then he said, "We
have not heard Gipsy Smith, and we all want to hear him. I am not going to take
up your time. The Gipsy will address the meeting." I was ready and willing,
proud indeed to face such a magnificent audience. My sermon was very short,
for I desired to get the people back again, and so I sent them away hungry.
I never wanted a congregation after that meeting. As long as we occupied this
old circus it was crowded at every service. The Mayor had placed the local hall-mark
on our work, and we at once entered into the good-will of the whole town.

The work in Hanley, once well begun, went on increasing in success and fruitfulness.
The revival which had its centre in our meeting-place spread over the whole
of North Staffordshire. There was no Non Conformist Church within ten or twenty
miles of Hanley that did not feel the throb of it. At the end of every week
hundreds and thousands of persons poured into Hanley, the metropolis of the
Potteries, to attend our meetings. From 6.30 p.m. on Saturday to 9.30 p.m. on
Sunday we had nine services, indoors and out of doors. I conducted them all.
We sold ten thousand copies of The War Cry every week. No other station in the
Salvation Army has ever managed to do this, as far as I know. I cannot go into
any congregation in the Potteries today without seeing people who were converted
under my ministry in that great revival. In America and in Australia too I have
met converts of those days. I preached every Sunday to crowds of from seven
thousand to eight thousand people, and every night in the week we had the place
crowded for an evangelistic service. The leaders of the Churches in the Potteries
were impressed by the work, and being honest men and grateful for it, they stood
by me.